


Sweetie Pie

by DeepDisiresLonging



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Food mention, Mild Language, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 04:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17114255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepDisiresLonging/pseuds/DeepDisiresLonging
Summary: Bucky reminisces about a favorite diner from before he was drafted. You want to bring a little bit of the past back to him.





	Sweetie Pie

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a Dean Winchester fic, but morphed into a Bucky fic. Please let me know what you think of the fic with comments and kudos! I really appreciate them and giggle like mad when I get notifications. Please enjoy!

“I’m telling you; they had the best blackberry pie in the state.” Bucky’s eyes were brighter than you had seen them in a while. You couldn’t help but focus on the way his eyes crinkled at the sides, and how he kept licking his bottom lip.

Oh, to be that bottom lip. Snap out of it, Y/N!

You shook yourself back into focus. “A good mom and pop’s like that, it might still be there. Have you tried looking for it yet?”

He thought for a moment. “You know, I hadn’t even thought to. I haven’t been on that side of town since waking up.”

“Let’s look around and find it for dinner. Even if we don’t find it, we might discover a new hole-in-the-wall and find you a new favorite dessert.”

That afternoon, you almost ended up running your car on fumes as Bucky tried to remember where the diner was.

“What was the name again?” you asked.

“Rachel’s, I think. Or was that the name of the waitress? Maybe it was Betty’s.”

“If it’s there, we’ll find it.” You checked your GPS while pulled up to the curve. It hurt to see him struggle so much to remember, like a tightness around your heart that took your breath away. The map showed a dinner two blocks up, but it didn’t match any of Bucky’s descriptions so far. “Was it possibly ‘Hamilton Diner’?”

“That’s it!”

He was bouncing in his seat until you pulled up. It was a streamlined diner with big windows, but the paint was faded and most of the windows were boarded up. As were most of the windows in the surrounding buildings.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. Do you still want to find someplace new? There was an interesting-looking pizza place back the way we came.”

“Sure,” he said softly. He was equally as un-talkative for the rest of the night. He barely ate three slices and the ride was silent back to the tower.

You couldn’t get the diner out of your head over the next few days. Bucky seemed to have pushed it from his mind, but knowing him, it probably kept reminding him how much time was stolen from him. ‘Hamilton Diner’ sounded familiar to you, more than through his stories. Older than you knew him. So, you made a call to your grandmother.

She ended up having the best news in the world.

The mixer whined loudly as it struggled to keep up with the concoction you were making. Flour covered your working space and you were sure it was in your hair, already having decimated your black yoga pants and one of Bucky’s shirts. The dough you were making on the counter was super sticky in a way that didn’t feel right, but you kept on; there was no time to fix the problem.

“What’s this?” Bucky leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen and chuckled at your appearance.

“You’re not supposed to be home yet.” With a sigh you turned off the mixer, but not before a blob spun out and landed on your nose. You ignored it for the time being and went back to working the dough. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I’ve seen you bake before, and it never gets old to see how messy you can make our kitchen.” He stepped between you and the mixer and took out the extension.

“Hey, don’t lick the…” Too late.

“It was either you or the beater, sweetheart.” His smile sent heat pooling to your stomach, but you pressed on with your story.

“I called my grandmother the other night, Grandma Rachel, and made a few connections. She worked at a diner in the area for a while, and found out last night that it was the Hamilton Diner.” The dough felt less sticky as you rolled it with a flour laden rolling pin. “She took some recipes with her when she left and I thought… maybe… just maybe, one of them would be the pie we were looking for yesterday.”

Bucky’s hands laid over yours as he came to stand behind you. “You’re baking me a pie? From Hamilton Diner?” Your breath hitched as his hands eased away to wrap around your waist. “Can I help?”

By the time the pie was in the oven the kitchen was a mess. A flour war may or may not have happened, and you were sure that you looked ghostly having lost. You couldn’t help running your tongue across your bottom lip as Bucky swayed side to side to the 40’s music station you found. He swept the stuck-on dough and other disaster piles off the counter, rubbing some places harder than others as needed making his arms bulge in delicious ways. You finished drying the mixing bowl and put it away, needing to stretch to your tiptoes to put it on the shelf. When you turned around, Bucky was there to kiss your forehead. He chuckled as he blew some flour from your hair.

“You still got somethin’ on ya…um,” he tapped his nose and with a start you remembered the blob of filling from earlier. You moved grab a washcloth, but Bucky beat you to the task by licking your nose.

“Hey!” you giggled as he continued to lick and kiss across your cheeks down to your mouth, ‘cleaning’ your face while using his washcloth to get anything else.

He hummed in delight. “You taste like blackberries.”

“No taste-testing till the pie’s ready. Come on, we’ve got some time.” You led him to the couch and curled against him as you grabbed your book. Bucky read over your shoulder, tapping your thumb on the page when he reached the bottom. Eventually, fell asleep and he stopped tapping. You marked the page with his bookmark and kept reading while you waited for the oven to alert you the pie was done. Bucky woke before then, inhaling deeply the scent of fruit and goldening crust as it filled the apartment.

You made it to the oven mitts first, laughing when Bucky dramatically opened the oven door for you.

“It looks perfect, Y/N,” Bucky said as you sat it on the counter.

“Hmm. But does it taste good? I’ve never made this recipe before.” You laid it on the cooling rack as Bucky turned off the oven.

“It tasted fine when I licked the filling off you earlier.” He grinned as you stuck your tongue out at him. “You know, the pie’s going to need a few minutes to cool down.” Bucky stepped closer, pinning you to the counter. He removed the mitts from your hands, kissing across your knuckles and leading you towards the bedroom.

“You don’t want to eat it while it’s hot?” You sat on his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“That’s what the invention of the microwave is for. I’ve waited this long, I can wait for a little bit more. But for you, I can never wait.” He crashed his lips into yours, the morning’s teasing replaced with passion and fire and a haste like he was starving for you. His hard length rolled against your clothed sex, making you gasp. Bucky continued to roll his hips until you were panting and his jeans were glistening in two places from both your arousals. Your stomach muscles contracted as he snarled in your ear and pulled you down harder into his lap.

“Buck-“

“You like riding me, sweetheart? Hungry for my cock yet?”

“Yes. Please, James.”

He pushed you off him to lay on your back with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. You watched over your stomach as he pulled his belt out of the loops in one tug and threw it across the room. His shirt that you had borrowed for the morning flew across the room as you threw it off you. His eyes greedily took in the sight of your bare breasts. He tapped his jeans button for a second deep in thought, watching you lick your lips, then reached down and tugged your pants and panties down your legs. He sank to his knees between your legs and pinned your hips to the bed.

“I think I’m going to taste you first.” He chuckled as you groaned with impatience. You were easy to silence with the distraction of feeling him run a metal finger up through your slick and then watching him suck it into his mouth. He hummed and closed his eyes; when they opened his pupils nearly eclipsed his irises. Bucky growled and shoved his face into your heat. He lapped and sucked, his metal finger playing inside of you the whole time. His flesh arm stayed stretched across your hips preventing you from bucking and writing away from him. He leaned back and smiled, watching your face contort in pleasure and your eyes plead.

“Please, James, don’t stop.”

“I have no intention of stopping.” He leaned forward and hummed into your sex, “I’m not leaving this spot until you scream and gush for me.” Bucky buried two fingers into you and chuckled. You made eye contact with him one more time before you arched. His fingers began vibrating and curling, then circling around the inside of your lips so he could stimulate every bit of your walls. He sucked down on your clit, making you cry out. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open as the vibrating pushed you over the ravine of pleasure. Bucky loudly slurped up your release. He rubbed the tops of your trembling thighs until they stopped shivering. You heard his clothes drop to the floor and then felt the bed dip as he crawled up your body to suck on your neck.

“You taste so wonderful, Y/N.” His head dipped to place open-mouthed kisses on your breasts. He chuckled against your skin as you reached down and stroked his cock, twirling your thumb over the tip. Bucky grabbed both your wrists and pinned them over your head with one hand. “Naughty.”

“Always,” you smirked. You whined when Bucky sucked your nipples and blew cold air across them. He was so good at making you writhe under him that you didn’t notice him lining himself up with your entrance until he was sinking in an inch at a time. You lost the ability to breathe until he bottomed out. His chest inflated against yours as he also struggled to find oxygen and his head fell into the sheets over your shoulder. You grinned down at him and flexed your walls around his length, making him curse in Russian. A second later his eyes bored into yours.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, little girl.”

Bucky’s eyes rolled back in his head as you rolled your hips to move yourself up and down his length. He grunted and flexed his arms to keep from moving in time with you, denying you pleasure. But at the same time, denying it to himself. You knew what to do to spur him on.

“Please James, fuck me like only you can. I want to feel your cock fill me up, want to be sore in the morning. You feel so good. So thick and perfect. Please, James. James!”

He finally met your thrust. If he didn’t have such a strong grip on your wrists and then your waist, you would have slid up the bed with how hard he was pounding into you. You were going to be sore this afternoon, much more in the morning.

The air was thick with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and with the scent of both of your sweats and arousals. Bucky’s skin gleamed above you, as much as you could see through your fluttering eyelashes. Your screams of pleasure were sinking into small cries increasingly higher in pitch with each thrust. Bucky released your wrists so you could wrap them around his shoulders. He wrapped his arms behind the small of your back and pulled you deeper into him. His abs rubbed against your stomach and his V against your clit. You careened over the edge with a silent whimper. Bucky gave and animalistic groan as your orgasming walls gripped his cock and pulled him into release with you. Your hips bucked wildly as his cum coated your walls.

Bucky fell slightly to one side so as not to crush you beneath him. A few breaths later he rolled onto his back and pulled you to lay on his heaving chest. Your fingers lightly traced between his muscles as your eyes drooped. You would have fallen asleep if Bucky hadn’t rumbled beneath you.

“We still have pie.”

You laughed. “One track mind.” You struggled to stand at the edge of the bed on wobbly legs. Bucky couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly as he handed you one of his shirts, a button-up with the buttons missing and long enough to cover the back of your thighs.

In the kitchen, he kissed the top of your head while you cut two slices. You tugged the plate away from his hand at the last second and asked, “You don’t want to take it to the tower to share with the team?”

Bucky shot you a glare that would have sent the toughest Hydra agent screaming in fear. You giggled and handed him his plate in exchange for a fork. The pie was perfectly warm and it melted in your mouth with each bite. You finished your smaller slice first and leaned against the counter to look at Bucky.

“Since when can your fingers vibrate?”

“I challenged Tony to an upgrade,” he said between bites, “convinced him I didn’t think he could do it. He didn’t ask why; just completed the challenge in two hours and danced around his workshop like he’d won the Nobel prize.”

“Hate to break it to him, but you’re the genius.” You leaned forward to kiss him, but wrapped your lips around his fork instead, stealing his next bite of pie.

“Watch it, sweetheart.”

“Or what?” You dragged your finger around your plate and licked off the escaped filling.

Bucky grinned back softly until his eyes darkened promisingly and he cupped your sex. His thumb vibrated against your still-sensitive clit. “Or I’ll finish what I started.”

At the next available chance, you stole another bite off his fork.


End file.
